My smorgasbord of health issues played a part in my (upcoming) divorce. Looking back, I think that he just couldn’t deal with the changes I needed to make for my health and he couldn’t deal with seeing me differently than he had expected me to be. Because he expected me to be everything, to be perfect, to take care of him. My health issues meant I needed some taking care of. I’m sure he thought he would, that he could, but when it came down to it, he didn’t.
As I look forward, I know that my health issues are going to be an issue for any future guy who (thinks he) wants to be with me.
My bestie was upset with me when I told him that. He says I’m the total package, any guy would be lucky to have me, that my health will not be an issue. But he doesn’t live the daily life, all the little things that I deal with, I cope with, that sometimes make me cranky and not nice to be around. He thinks the right guy will pick up the slack, find the right balance between letting me be my independent self and taking care of me.
Now that I’m living in my own “bubble” in my rental, I have a place where there is nothing I can’t eat–nothing that will make me sick if it’s mixed in my food. I LOVE it. Not the rental itself, but the bubble, the safety of my kitchen. It’s a huge relief to cook and clean and eat without any concern for crumbs or other cross-contamination.
And I think…how will I ever live with another person again? The person who was supposed to love me the most was inconvenienced by trying to keep me safe and did a piss-poor job at it so how will I….ask someone to keep my bubble safe? How will I let someone in and trust they will do what is necessary? How will I even ask someone to go down this road with me?
My friend in Portland told me that she and her husband have discussed having me move in (I’m NOT moving to Portland so this plan already fails….) and they have it all planned out. The kitchen will be mine; I will do all the cooking and nothing unsafe will enter. They will take care of everything else in the house. If they want to eat unsafe for me things, they will go out to eat. Great plan except the quasi-second wife-ishness of the plan. And moving to Portland.
So I know there are maybe people out there who would make that sacrifice for me. But I look at it as a sacrifice. And that’s not even the worst of the health issues!
My thyroid diseases have caused some hormonal issues that still impact my digestion and cause pain issues. On top of that, MS is an unpredictable bitch. I look fine but I have invisible symptoms all the time. I don’t talk much about it since it’s a chronic disease and no one really wants a list of what’s wrong with me every day but it does affect me. Every. Day.
How do I ask someone to deal with this shit? My bestie says someone will choose to. I’d like to think that is true but…if I love someone enough to be friends and then more than friends, how can I let him choose this life?
My boy, who is my friend first, has his own health issues. He says I am his best friend. I really like him, as a friend and as more. I’m so conflicted. As his friend, I feel like I should keep it to friends so he doesn’t get hurt, doesn’t have to deal with this shit, doesn’t have to deal with ME. As his friend+, I want to think it’s his choice to deal with ME.
It’s surprising to me how open and honest we are with each other. We talk about everything. I’ve never been fake with him. When we were talking about how I hid what was going on with my ex from my friends for so long, I realized I never hid it from him. (He actually knew how my ex was treating me before he even met me because of things he heard my ex say.)
My boy recently told me that the MS thing does concern him. My breath caught for a moment, a pause while I waited for him to find his way out of my arms, to tell me he isn’t strong enough to walk this path with me. But he held me close. He said he doesn’t know. He said it’s my burden to bear. He smiled and warned me that a nerdy quote was coming.
He said “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you.”
He is such an amazing friend–I hope I’m not fucking this up. My bestie doesn’t think the boy is the right guy for me, and maybe he’s right. But if he is right, I hope I am still the boy’s best friend.